Saving Face
by TaylorGibbs
Summary: After the events of About Face, Tony is worried about Palmer. Tony/Palmer pairing.


Story 1: Tony/Palmer. Hurt/comfort. Usually it's Tony who is in the

line of fire. What happens when Palmer gets hurt. Can be angsty or

fluff, but must have a happy ending.

Set the night of About Face.

Tony waited until later that night, after Jimmy had basked in the glow of a job well done. Tony knew that car accidents hurt a lot more later. In the accident, your muscles reacted and locked up, but when they relaxed, that was when the real pain started. It was going to be a tough night for Palmer and Tony intended to make it a little better. Some pizza, a couple of beers, and then maybe Palmer would be loose enough to accept a rub down. It'd help his strained muscles and he'd thank Tony in the morning.

Tony threw a pair of sweats and a T-shirt in an overnight bag, along with some absorbent towels, massage lotion and, even some Ben Gay. Palmer had been thoroughly checked out by a clucking Ducky, his chest puffed proudly out at Palmer's ballsy move. Even though Gibbs shot the doctor a warning look, Ducky was very impressed with Palmer, and he wasn't afraid to show it.

Gibbs had looked serious the whole while. Tony knew how close Palmer had come to being the corpse formerly known as Autopsy Gremlin. If Milos Suskavcevic had taken another shot at him, this one might not have gone wide. Or even if he discharged the weapon as Palmer came driving at him like the hounds of hell were after him.

Tony sighed, climbing into his car and clenching the steering wheel. He had a soft spot for the Autopsy Gremlin, the geeky medical student who'd been banging booty with Michelle Lee for a while. That was sure as hell a case of opposites attracting. It seemed that Michelle had started cooling toward Palmer recently, if his hangdog looks were anything to go by.

Palmer lived in a garden apartment west of Old Town in Alexandria, right by Generous George's, one of Tony's favorite pizza joints. He pulled in and ordered a pie, the way Palmer liked it. Tony wasn't crazy about double pepperoni, but Palmer deserved a treat.

Tony played with his phone until the pizza was done, frenetic energy still coursing through him. He'd picked up a six pack of Dominion ale earlier, something that he knew would go well with the spicy, cheesy goodness in the box he carried.

When Tony got to Palmer's door, he hesitated before knocking. What if Palmer was in bed, stiff and sore, exhausted from the adrenaline drop. Tony, Palmer, Abby, and McGee had exchanged house keys when Gibbs was in Mexico. Ziva had refused to do so, saying she needed her privacy, but the rest of the team had done it without any problems. It had helped in times like this, though there hadn't been too many. Tony eyed the key for a moment before slipping it silently into the lock.

He let himself in with Gibbs-level stealth and walked to the kitchen, slipping the pizza and beer onto the table quietly. If Palmer was napping, he wasn't going to wake him up. Tony pivoted, heading for the couch when a low moan came from Palmer's bedroom. He stopped in his tracks, cocking his head for a moment,

Even though Tony knew that it was dumb, he withdrew his gun. What if someone was after Palmer, what if he'd seen way too much? What if there was someone else involved, or Milos had a lover, something the team hadn't picked up on? Tony stalked silently toward the bedroom, Palmer's moans growing in volume and depth.

"Federal agents!" Tony announced, entering the room, gun aimed. He couldn't have been more shocked by what he saw. Palmer—naked on his bed—jerking and moaning, his hard cock held in a tight fist.

"Oh God!" Palmer's eyes widened as he saw Tony. "OH GOD!" His body shaking harder now, he was at the point of no return. Tony could only watch as Palmer exploded onto his stomach, chest, and Tony could swear some of it went into Palmer's hair. It was the craziest thing Tony could imagine. It was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. Tony gulped hard, his cock hardening in his pants. Palmer was just watching him, mouth hanging open, abdomen contracting and releasing, cock still dribbling, and Tony shook his head, banishing all thoughts of Palmer in that position, with that expression on his face.

"Aren't you too sore for that?"

"I...ummm…" Palmer flushed darkly—all over, Tony noticed the head to toe flush before he dragged his gaze away. "It was the danger." There was a nervous laugh in the younger man's voice, and Tony shook his head. He understood it too well, and they didn't need another danger junkie on the team.

"Get cleaned up. I brought pizza and beer." And Ben Gay and towels, but there was no way Tony was mentioning that yet. If ever. Yeah, never was starting to sound like a good idea right about now.

"You did?" Now Palmer looked sheepish. "Really?" He stood, grabbing a wadded up bit of fabric, and started wiping down his body. "Um…thanks, Tony." His face was still bright red and his body still erect.

"Yeah… I'll just be…" Tony gestured toward the living room, making his retreat. What the hell had just happened there?

By the time the shower clicked off and Palmer stepped out of the bathroom, apple cheeked, his hair curling over his forehead, Tony had the slices of pizza on plates and the beers uncapped. Tony was thankful that his cock had finally softened—the usual trick about Ziva and Ducky naked together had worked for him. He glanced over, watching Palmer move, the sweatpants and baggy T-shirt clinging to his damp body.

"Thanks…" Palmer trailed off, gesturing to the pizza.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." The smile was forced, and Tony wasn't sure if that was because of the awkward situation or the accident earlier.

"You sore?" Tony asked, his voice gentling.

Palmer shrugged, but his movement was stiff and unnatural.

"How bad?" Tony asked softly. He knew Palmer had bruised some ribs from the impact of the steering wheel and air bag against his chest, but his whole body had also been jostled.

"Not great," Palmer allowed. "Just started tightening up when I got home. Now I hurt in places that didn't even touch the steering wheel."

"That's natural," Tony assured, launching into descriptions of movie chases and accidents. He could do it all day and he knew Palmer knew that. It was helping to diffuse the tension between them.

"Do you ever…" Palmer asked after they'd polished off the pizza. He stood gingerly and limped his way to the couch, Tony following him, bottle of beer in his hand.

"Ever what?" Tony asked. There was no way in hell Palmer was asking if he jerked off. Every guy did that! Tony cocked his head, waiting for Palmer to add to the conversation. It wasn't lost on Tony that he was doing a very Gibbsian thing.

"Danger," Palmer finally finished. "Tony, I was terrified when I stepped on the gas, but afterward…"

"The adrenaline has to go somewhere," Tony finished. "Trust me, Palmer, it is natural."

"So after a hard case, you sometimes go home and…" At that, Palmer blushed, looking boyish and vulnerable. Tony wanted to drag his thumb over the other man's lush lower lip. Instead, he clamped his hand tighter around the sweaty beer bottle, refusing to give in to the need rising in him again.

"Yeah. Sometimes I do," Tony finished. "Other times I go to a club and dance or drink it off. Sometimes I wake up in someone else's bed." It was a fact Tony wasn't proud of, but he knew he needed to establish to Palmer that he wasn't unique.

"So…lust. That's a part of the package? Danger…and lust?"

"Jimmy, when isn't lust a part of life?" Tony asked, starting to reach for Palmer's remote control, thinking he'd put on a game and distract them both. But he didn't hit the button, something holding him back. Tony was the master of hiding and cloaking, but tonight he didn't want to do that. He wanted to be real with Palmer, as strange as that sounded and felt to him.

When Palmer fell silent, Tony glanced over at the other man, taking in the reddened tips of his ears. "What?" he asked quietly, against every instinct to cut and run. Old habits died hard.

"Does the feeling continue, Tony?"

"Continue" Tony asked, awareness dawning. When Palmer gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, Tony had to suck in a breath, one tinged with not only the scent of Palmer's arousal, but his own.

"Yeah," Jimmy said, blushing brightly now. He started to shrug and then winced. Tony's mind took him back to the sight of Palmer naked in bed, blushing head to toe and every place in between.

"Only if you want it to," Tony replied, his heart racing, body aching. "Do you, Jimmy?"

Jimmy moved in closer, his mouth so close to Tony's. He was clearly waiting for Tony to close the gap, and he did, his lips barely brushing Palmer's, hand resting on the other man's thigh and stroking it gently.

When Palmer made a soft sound of want, Tony couldn't resist, his hand coming up to run in slow motions through Palmer's curly, slightly-damp hair. Mindful of Palmer's nose bleeding a few hours ago, Tony kept the kiss tender and steady, not deepening it, not forcing Palmer's mouth open. He'd been injured today, and Tony couldn't forget that.

Tony pulled back gently, staring into Palmer's eyes, and before the other man could start a stammering reply or apology, Tony put his hand up warningly. "Don't, Jimmy. It's okay. I want it too."

Tony knew he needed to settle Palmer down, and he gestured to his bag. "Let's take this slow. Jimmy. Strip down."

"That isn't slow!"

"Yeah it is," Tony assured, trying not to lick his lips. He'd liked what he'd seen of Palmer's nudity—slim body and straining cock. But that wasn't the ultimate goal, not yet.

Palmer had that look he usually had when Gibbs was around, and Tony winced, a part of him wanting to pull the other man into a slight hug. He'd been through hell today and that was the only reason why Tony wasn't kissing him senseless and manhandling him onto the bed.

"How?" Palmer asked softly. His mouth was slightly open, his lips moist, eyes hazy. He looked a combination of so young and innocent and sexual, and the opposite qualities should never have worked, but it did on Palmer.

"Just get naked for me, Jimmy," Tony said, keeping his voice soft. When Palmer didn't immediately move, Tony ran a hand through the back of his hair, trying to keep his nerves at bay. Palmer wasn't going to reject him, was he?

Tony gave the other man a penetrating look. He wasn't trying to channel Gibbs exactly, but he needed to make his point clear.

"Okay, I can do this," Palmer muttered.

"Do you want to?" Tony asked, draining the last of his beer. Palmer ducked his head for a moment and then looked up at Tony, nodding. He stared down at Tony's feet intently, licking his lips.

"What?"

"Those are Varvatos shoes, aren't they?"

Tony blinked a couple of times, remembering Abby and McGee mentioning that Palmer might have a thing for shoes.

"Yeah, they are," Tony said, lowering his voice and making it husky. "You like." He wiggled his feet, showing off the expensive footwear.

"Oh yeah," Palmer said, his face splitting into a grin. "Could I…maybe try them on?"

"Later. Right now you get naked."

"But I'm—" Palmer cut himself off, glancing down to his crotch.

"Yeah, me too. But you need a backrub. You need to get all that tension out, and I'm the man to do it for you, Jimmy."

"You are?"

Tony nodded, pulling Palmer to his feet. "And whatever else happens, happens. You good with that?"

"Really good."

"Now get naked for me, Palmer." Tony let his eyes slide up and down the other man's body, lingering on where his sweats were pushed out. "I give very good massages, all over."

"Can't wait!"

"Me either."


End file.
